By The Light Of The Moon
by musikfreakmeg
Summary: REPUBLISHED as Forged In Flames. Chapter 6, Threshold: 'I believe my nephew is capable of looking after himself. This does not mean that I am not happy that he will have you with him today.' A lot of their most important moments seem to happen in the moonlight. Zutara
1. Instinct

**A/N: Hi all, first time writing in a long time, and first time ever writing anything ATLA, so I'm trying something out. This is probably going to be a series of one-shots capturing important moments in Katara and Zuko's relationship (obviously taking things in a bit of a different direction from the series), but I've not quite shaped it in my head yet so who knows how long it's going to end up being? Wooh, uncertainty!**

**Disclaimer: None of the characters in this fic are my own creations, they belong to Bryke/Nickelodeon. I've also used some dialogue from the show at multiple points - basically if you recognise it, it's not mine.**

**This first one takes place during The Southern Raiders, so get ready for some angsty Katara and trying-not-to-be-angsty-anymore-but-sometimes-failing-spectacularly Zuko.**

**Instinct**

The sound of cracking stone rends the air between them, followed swiftly by a medley of soft clinking noises as the first small pieces of debris start to fall.

For a split second, somehow detached from the danger around him, it strikes Zuko that it's a strangely benign sound to herald the collapse of their temporary home. But collapsing it is, and he's pulled brutally back into the moment as the ceiling begins to give way above them.

She's standing there, staring half-horrified and half-resolute at the now-shuddering doors of what had seconds ago been their sanctuary. Katara hasn't realised yet that the sky is falling – it seems no one has other than him. Maybe it's his knowledge of Fire Nation attack strategies guiding his gaze in the right direction, or maybe it's just sheer dumb luck that he hears what no one else seems to, but whatever the reason he knows what he knows.

She stands, unfaltering, unaware.

And he runs, throwing Suki to one side away from the fracturing ceiling as he launches himself at Katara.

Hanging there, suspended for a moment in the air, Zuko somehow has the time to think that this was a really, really stupid decision – jumping into the path of what's probably a literal ton of falling rock in an attempt to save the life of a girl who openly hates him is... Well, it's an interesting choice. But he's made it now and it's not as if he can take it back, so he prays to every dragon of old that he has enough momentum to get them both through this without being crushed.

The impact knocks every reverent thought out of him as they land, clear, on the stone floor. The impetus that saved them reveals itself to be bittersweet as they skid and roll across the rough ground, his body wrapped hard around hers doing only little to shield her from the blows.

They scrape to a stop feet away from the pile of rubble which would've ended her. He aches as though he's just been stampeded over by a sabre-tooth moose lion, and it's only going to hurt more later on, but she's safe under him, her back pressed up against his chest, and she's...

'What are you doing?!'

Angry. Agni's sake, she's _angry_ at him.

But, bizarrely, it doesn't matter that she still seems to hate him, seems to hate the fact that it was him who just saved her life. As he runs towards the light that glares through the splintered doors, he's left with the certainty that he wouldn't have done those few moments any differently. They feel as though they had been unavoidable, and he knows, as stupid a decision as it felt, that it hadn't really been a decision at all.

He hadn't even needed to think.

* * *

Her lungs squeeze in her chest as she makes sense of what Sokka is saying. _No_. No, she can't say goodbye to their father again, can't watch him walk away from them down that tunnel as if the world isn't already falling apart around them. Every time he leaves she's weighed down a little more by the thought that it might be the last time she gets the luxury of saying goodbye.

But Appa is unyielding behind her, and the sounds of the Fire Prince and his sister exchanging blows are a dogged reminder of the fact that they all need to get out, now. So she hugs him hard, eyes stinging and heart clenched, and turns quickly away so that this time she can be the one who leaves first.

They make it past Azula, the bitter heat of her fire flickering past them around Toph's rock shield, and Katara turns to see her figure shrink behind them, to make sure that the threat really has passed. As she watches, Azula turns, gaze drawn to the Fire Nation airship which is rising behind her. Her brother stands, defiant, jaw set, and Katara stares at the siblings in their confrontation.

It shakes something in her, watching them face each other like that. Without looking, she feels Sokka's presence behind her, and tries to imagine how it would feel not to have him as the steadfast support that he is; how would it feel to, instead, be locked into a bond so vicious that they could stare across a chasm of air and cloud and see only an enemy? The thought twists in her gut and she releases it quickly, focussing fleetingly on the bursts of blue and orange light that are now unfurling from the two firebenders below.

Her attention is torn away by the jolt of Appa sweeping into a sharp upwards turn, balls of flame soaring past them as they climb quickly up and over the top of the Fire Nation airship in front of them. Relief rushes through her, pulling her hair out behind her as they fall and curve over the other side of the vessel, swinging forwards towards open air and freedom.

But they are not the only ones falling, and he has no power to right himself.

Somehow, it doesn't feel forced. If she'd had minutes – seconds, even – to think about it, she definitely would've weighed things up more carefully first. It would never have been a question about whether or not she let him fall (because, let's face it, she just didn't have it in her to let someone die like that), so with all the time in the world to think about it, she knows she would've come to the same conclusion.

But, and here's the important part, it wouldn't have felt simple. She wouldn't have been particularly happy about saving the life of the boy who'd tormented them for so long. She would've been clear on every reason behind her actions, none of which would've had anything to do with a concern for him or his safety.

But as she flings out a hand to pull Zuko from the air, Katara doesn't need to think at all. And afterwards, when she does have the time to stop and turn it over in her head, it almost bothers her how easy it was.

* * *

For a moment, as the group laughs at his quip, Zuko almost feels like he's starting to belong, the thought knocked clumsily into place by Aang and Toph's friendly punches, tentatively soldered by the fire crackling in front of them.

Then her voice cuts through the cheer, a caustic echo of the voice in his own head that still tells him he's wasting his time.

'Yeah, no kidding.'

He doesn't understand. And not in a 'what did he ever do to her?' kind of way. He knows what he did, and how much he did; he knows what he has to repent for. But he's _trying_ to repent, and all the others seem to be finding it easy enough to start welcoming him in now that he's shown them how much he means it. He doesn't get why she's so resistant to him, and he makes sure that she knows that.

'What is it with you?'

Then she answers, and suddenly he thinks that perhaps this isn't about his repentance at all.

Sokka's face tautens as he tells Zuko the story, more serious than the other teenager has ever seen him outside of battle. As he speaks, something flickers in the pit of Zuko's stomach; a strange, quaking feeling that feels a bit like nostalgia, only crueller, more nauseating. He doesn't push it away, instead pulling it up to stick firmly in his chest, and he holds it there until she comes out of her tent the next morning.

* * *

It's petty, she knows. But he's sitting in front of her and it's first thing in the morning and everyone _knows_ that waterbenders are night people. She can't deal with him being _right there_ right now, so yes, she reaches for petty, and she's unapologetic about that.

'You look terrible.'

'I waited out here all night.'

The thought does not endear him to her.

'What do you want?' Snapped, tightly. Because really, she doesn't care what he wants, she just wants him to leave her alone.

'I know who killed your mother.' Her heart stutters, hands stall. 'And I'm going to help you find him.'

Perhaps she should be asking him why he cares enough to help. Perhaps she should be asking him what he gets out of it. Perhaps she should be asking _herself_ what she expects to achieve by finding this man.

But she doesn't ask. She doesn't dare.

* * *

He's enabling her, he knows. And he knows that this isn't really what she wants, this isn't really who she is. But hers is a feeling – hers is a _rage_ – that he recognises. And he knows first-hand that it won't be touched by reason. It had taken him far too long to understand that this was why his uncle had facilitated all his reckless hunting; not because the old man ever believed Zuko's salvation was in achieving his goal, but because he'd known all along that it wasn't, and that his nephew would need more than just a few earnest words to see that for himself.

So when Aang tells her forgive the man whose memory has tormented her for six years, Zuko raises his eyebrows and twists his voice into something that sounds like derision. Never mind that he knows the younger boy is right.

Whatever choices Katara's going to make, she needs to make them herself. He's just giving her the opportunity to find out what they are. He hopes that she doesn't need as many chances as he did to get it right.

* * *

The moon had always been a comfort to her before now, even more so after Yue rose from the waters of the Spirit Oasis and took her place amongst the stars; tonight, though, it is cold and unfeeling as it rises above the water, Appa skimming over clouds bathed in the last light of day as it gives way to the night.

The Fire Prince is asleep, sprawled out in the saddle behind her. Or at least he was.

'You should get some rest – we'll be there in a few hours. You'll need all your strength.'

She bites back, rankled by his concern, but her own words open a dam somewhere inside her, and without meaning to she's telling him all of it, every detail she remembers of the final moments she had with her mother. As she speaks, something rustles at the fringes of her memory, something that feels like recognition, a moment of reflection in a scarred face bathed in pale green light.

She doesn't want it, and pushes it away with force as she reaches the end of her story.

'Your mother was a brave woman.'

Like she needs him to tell her that. But, she notices, she doesn't hate him for saying it as much as she would've thought.

* * *

They fight together well, each ceding for the other as they make their way through the boat, the need to communicate out-loud lost to something more instinctive.

His eyes widen as he watches her bend the body of the Southern Raiders' captain to her will, the man's joints popping as he tries to fight against her control, and for the first time Zuko is gripped by the fear that he's made an awful mistake, that he's led her down this path and now she isn't going to walk it the way he'd expected.

But he _has_ led her here, trusting that she will do the thing that's right for her when it comes to the moment to choose. So he keeps trusting, and he keeps leading.

* * *

The heckled heron of a man studies the path behind him warily, calls out in uncertainty. It's all she needs to know that this time they've gotten it right. She doesn't know what she feels; something too complex to simply name it as anger or pain or anticipation. But then she sees the man's face tense in unease and it's the same face that she's seen in her nightmares, halfway between waking and sleeping, for the last six years.

Haunted. That's how she feels. And now the ghost is real.

* * *

He sees her breath catch, feels the rain intensify by the pull of the waterbender's emotions as Katara finds out the truth behind her mother's murder, her _sacrifice_. He barely has time to be impressed by her power before admiration makes way for awe; the downpour has stalled under her hold, gravity cowed by her wrath. She looks like she belongs on another plane, a spirit made solid by grief and fury, a Mu-onna forged in reverse. And for a moment it feels as though the storm itself is holding its breath, teetering on the blade's edge, waiting to see which way she will go.

* * *

She holds.

* * *

She launches.

* * *

She stops.

* * *

His hands are clenched into fists so tight that the rain is starting to hiss as it hits him, steam rising from his skin. He'd thought in a flash of stomach-turning, stunned panic that he'd read her wrong, that she was really going to do it.

As she releases the rain from her grasp, he loosens his fists and lets out a quiet, shaking breath, thanking every spirit he can name that this is the way she's destined to go, that her corruption will not be something that sits on his conscience tonight.

He'll take it to his grave that some small part of him – the same part that houses the sneering, snarling voice that taunts him when he's on the edge of sleep – pushes him in the direction of the snivelling man who still kneels before him, coaxes him to do what she couldn't, mocks him when he walks away leaving the man unscathed in the mud.

* * *

'I didn't spare him. Not really. I just... Couldn't do it.'

She needs him to know that she isn't merciful. She is not superior. She is not transcendent. She needs him to know that this doesn't feel like a victory. It feels sickening, rising in her like bile. She doesn't want to be glorified or praised for this, this failure that rasps in her throat.

'You wouldn't have been you if you had. But I understand why you wanted to.'

Two days ago – La, two _hours_ ago – she would've rounded on him, asked who was he to tell her what kind of person she was, let him know in no uncertain terms that his understanding was not something she needed. But the grate in his voice sounds like the way her hands are shaking, and she thinks perhaps he really, genuinely _does_ understand, and she thinks perhaps that _is_ what she'd needed this whole time.

It doesn't make her feel any better.

That's the moment she forgives him.

**A/N: And this can be the moment you forgive me for all the angst. Honestly, though, this is the only way that I could've covered this episode - it is not a happy day in Katara's life, and I wanted to hold off on any real inklings of feelings between them for this first one and focus more on them beginning to get each other. In my opinion, it's a really important set-up for things to get better later on. But having said that, I do promise that the next one will be at least a bit less heavy! Until next time!**


	2. Contact

**A/N: Hello! Second chapter, coming your way. A continuation of the Ember Island Players episode (everyone's favourite).  
**

**Contact**

'_Ember Island gives everyone a clean slate,_

_Ember Island reveals the true you'_

Zuko has been trying to sleep for what feels like hours. Spirits, maybe it _has_ been hours. The soft breathing of the rest of the gang whispers through the room, punctuated every so often by one of Sokka's snores.

He huffs lightly and stares at the ceiling a few moments longer, then abruptly picks himself up off the floor and slips out of the house.

The bay is quiet and calm, waves rolling in over the sand and then pulling back out towards the blackness of the sea. He stands in the stillness, watching the few scraps of cloud that are in the sky make their way past the moon, and he feels... what, melancholy?

Before he has the chance to explore that, something snags in the corner of his eye, the glow of the moon highlighting movement over on one of the large rocks that fringe the beach. He tenses momentarily, mind going immediately to his sister, but then his vision sharpens on the movements and, even in silhouette, he recognises the flow of Katara's waterbending forms.

Relaxing, he makes his way in her direction; he sees her spot him as he crosses the sand, and he lights a small flame in his palm so that she can see his face. She goes back to bending, limbs moving slowly, smoothly through the motions, shoulders rolling back as she turns multiple streams of water through the air. He can see why his uncle found inspiration in waterbending – bending fire centres on breathing, after all, and the push and pull of Katara's movements seem to mimic his own breaths as he reaches the base of the rock.

Things had been better since they'd travelled together across the Fire Nation; with her forgiveness, their interaction had eased from being laden with suspicion and blame to something lighter.

'I didn't think anyone else was awake,' he states, pulling himself up onto the sandstone.

She smiles, the moonlight catching on the side of her face as she tilts her head in his direction, eyes still held serenely on the sea.

'Waterbender,' she says briefly. Then, after a few moments more of twisting the streams around her hands, she continues. 'Sometimes when it's a clear night and the moon is strong I get... I don't know, restless? Like if I'm not bending then I'm missing out on something.' A breath of a laugh. 'It sounds silly saying it out loud.'

'It doesn't. I know what you mean. I get the same when the sun's coming up.'

Her eyes slip from the silver-streaked horizon to land on him, hands still intuitively working the water as a smirk curls the corners of her mouth.

'_You rise with the moon, I rise with the sun.'_

There's a laugh in her voice that Zuko has started to recognise as being light-hearted rather than mocking. He cringes all the same, dropping to sit with his elbows propped against his knees.

'Oh, man. Not my best moment.'

'I don't know, you've definitely got a flare for the dramatic. I can't think why they didn't include that line in the script today.'

He stays silent at this, and her movements slow to a stop, the water she'd been playing with flowing back down into the sea with a flick of her fingers. He can feel her eyes moving over him slowly, but keeps his sights firmly on the view, determinedly neutral.

'Why are _you_ still up, then?'

The casual tone in her voice is too forced to be genuine, even as she turns back away from him; it's clear she's already guessed the answer to her question. Now she's trying to walk the fine line between probing and prying, something that is still undefined in their newly-found companionship.

If he shuts down now, she'll accept it. They'll agree, wordlessly, that this is their limit, that they don't talk about this kind of thing with each other. They'll agree that the understanding they'd felt during their journey to find Yon Rha had been a one-off, not to be imitated in the confines of their day-to-day lives.

'That show today. I... I don't really feel like sleeping.'

He is so tired of pushing people away. And it's more than just that, too; it's her. He feels as though something has connected them ever since they found themselves trapped together in Ba Sing Se, some gossamer thread which had taken root when he first held up the mirror so that she could see herself in him, and she first offered to heal for him what had already been destroyed.

'I can understand why.' She's not pretending to be nonchalant anymore. Her silhouette is motionless against the white glow of the moon.

'Yeah. Seeing every bad mistake I've ever made being played out... It brought back a lot of regrets, things that I'd thought I was starting to make up for. And then watching my father defeat us made me think, maybe I'll never really be able to atone for my part in all this. Maybe everything I'm trying to do now is too little too late.'

Katara is silent for a moment, his words hovering in the air between them, and Zuko feels his breath falter, because what she's probably thinking is that he's right, and he doesn't know if he can take someone confirming those fears for him.

'Maybe it is.' _Catch_. 'But I don't think so.' _Release_. He crumples, just slightly.

'Why shouldn't you? I helped him. I did exactly what he wanted me to at almost every turn – I hunted the Avatar, I hurt innocent people, and I sat at his right hand and listened as he and his war council talked about doing awful things without saying a word.'

His shoulders are tight, neck almost sore.

When he lifts his head, she's there, sinking down to sit cross-legged so that he's side-on to her, still trying to give him some small sense of personal space even as she scrutinises him. Her voice is firm when she speaks, edging on forceful, and her eyes are simultaneously dark and shining as she keeps her stare fixed on his face.

'You're not like him, you know.' And he starts and looks around at her, because of_ course_ that's what he's afraid of. Something in him twists, the way it always seems to do when someone gives him more than he thinks he deserves.

'How do you know that?' he challenges, his voice suddenly rising. He pushes up off the ground, standing in front of her. 'It's not like I haven't tried to do the right thing before! But every time I do it's like the universe just pushes right back and tells me that I can't, so why even bother trying? What if I can't escape who I really am? My father marked me when I was _thirteen_ and I've been trying to get away from it ever since, but-

'Sit down, Zuko.'

Her words are spoken quietly, but they're tight. Undeniable.

He sits, the heat still high in him. She eyes him with an open sadness, looking shaken behind the shine of the moonlight on her face.

The silence stretches out for a few moments, long enough that Zuko starts to feel jumpy under her gaze.

'I didn't know.'

'What do you mean?' he counters, more than a little sharply.

'I didn't know that it was him who did it to you.' Her face sets, and her voice turns fierce, fierce in his defence. 'You're not like your father. Do you think you'd be here if you were? Do you think you'd be this torn up over it? Do you _really_ think that he ever would've hurt you the way that he did if you were anything like him?'

The fabric of her stolen Fire Nation skirt drags along the rough ground as she moves herself across so that she's sitting right in front of him, knees only a couple of inches away from his, her body tilted forwards into his own space.

'I know you've done things that you regret, Zuko, but that isn't the sum of your parts. You're saying that maybe you can't escape who you really are, but you've got it the wrong way around – I think you're finally learning who you really are.'

She leans back, still not looking away from him.

'You know, you were always talking about needing to get your honour back from your father. But it was never his to grant you.'

Any fight left in him deflates as he releases the breath that he hadn't realised he was holding. Even though he's been here, with the gang, for a good few weeks now, he's still not quite used to being believed in. It feels... nice.

'Yeah, I know that.' Then he corrects himself. 'I did know that. Sometimes it can be hard to keep hold of.'

'Mmh.'

Neither of them speaks for a while after that, then Katara blows out a hard breath and her voice opens up the silence again.

'Wow. All that from one play.'

They both laugh, a welcome release from the intensity of the last few minutes. He lets his chuckle ebb away, smile left caught on his face.

'Thanks, Katara.'

The laughter is still in her voice when she replies.

'Hey, any time. Apparently, corny inspirational speeches are what I'm known for.'

* * *

They're lying on the stone, smiling at the stars as they remind each other of the play's strangest edits on their lives.

'Puppet Momo.'

'Puppet _Earth King_.'

'Toph's sonic powers.'

Katara breaks into a fresh stream of laughter at that one, the sound overflowing from her and out into the night air.

'And of _course_ she was thrilled by that casting choice. I don't know why I thought it might make her understand how the rest of us were all feeling.'

A breeze blows lightly across the bay, lifting strands of her hair up off her shoulder and letting them fall across the gap between them.

'Is it weird that I'm both impressed by how much they knew, and disturbed by how badly they got things wrong?'

A reply comes to his lips and he holds it there for a moment, gauging his position with her. When he does speak, he slips a smirk into his voice.

'Funny.'

'What?'

'Nothing, I just thought you liked things that were _so bad_.'

She twists to look sideways at him, scandalised.

'Oh, that is _so_ unfair. You know I can't throw anything from that show back at you!'

It feels like a victory, not because she's stuck for a response, but because the jibe landed where it was meant to, taken as something easy and good-humoured rather than a push too far into private ground.

Then the smile fades off Katara's face, and he feels like a jerk for bringing up a part of her story that ended in hurt. Jerk-bender.

His voice softens.

'I didn't know that you knew him.'

'Jet? I didn't know you did.'

'We were friends, for a while, I think.'

'Mmh,' she hums, her fingers running absent-mindedly through the ends of her hair. He finds it oddly hypnotising. 'We were... something else. Sort of. It was strange, seeing him in Ba Sing Se.'

'I'm sorry about what happened. It seemed like you cared about him.'

She looks at him.

'Yeah... Yeah, I did.' Then, perhaps feeling the need to level the playing field again: 'How about you? That girl with the throwing knives? Mai?'

He feels guilt tighten his jaw.

'Yeah.'

A beat passes; he knows what the next question is, and how dangerous it could be.

'What about Aang?'

She stiffens next to him.

'What about Aang?' she asks tightly, the cut in her voice suddenly becoming defensive.

'I just... They seemed to really want to make it look as though you didn't think of him... like that. I don't think he was happy about it.'

She lets out a short, harsh breath, turning her face away from him to look resolutely across the bay, and a few drops of water are pulled from the air around her to weave at speed back and forth between her fingers.

'I don't know. It's... it's complicated.'

Her head lifts as if she's about to stand, then drops back onto the stone with a defeated heaviness; she drives the heels of her hands into the sockets of her eyes.

'I feel like an awful person. He's got all this pressure on him, and I know that he wants... But I just _don't know_.'

He waits, knowing that she has more to say.

'I know I care about him, a lot. Sometimes it's like yeah, maybe that's... maybe that could be something, and then other times it's like there's no...'

She tails off, eyes coming back to meet his as she stalls, searching for the right word.

'Spark?'

She winces slightly and nods, drawing in a deep breath before speaking.

'Right.' A pause, and her forehead furrows. 'But maybe that's just because of all the other stuff that's going on. It's difficult; when everything's so... intense... it's hard to know what you really feel.'

'It is.'

'And I don't want to hurt him.'

'I think he knows that.'

She's been holding his stare up to this point, but now she looks away, gaze turning in the direction of the sea, seeking out the comfort of the incoming tide.

The air feels thick and uncomfortable, and Zuko searches for something else to say. When no other subject comes to mind, he opts for a more head-on approach.

'Is this weird? Talking about this?'

Katara snorts a laugh and the tension dissolves.

'Probably. At this time of night, who knows?' Sitting up, she looks down at him where he lies, the reassurance of looking out to the sea no longer needed. 'Zuko?'

He props himself up on his elbows.

'Yeah?'

'I'm glad that we're talking. Not specifically about this, I mean, but... You know, I'm glad that we...' She tails off, and a warmth rises in him that has nothing to do with the first rays of sunlight that are showing over the horizon. He smiles, small but genuine.

'I know. Me too.'

This time, the silence is much easier.

She shifts so that they're sat side by side, shoulders touching.

The stars start to fade out as the sun continues to rise.

'You'd think they could've at least gotten your scar on the correct side.'

'_Right?_'

**A/N: I just love exploring the different facets of how they interact. I've tried to capture a run of different vibes for them here, as well as getting a bit deeper into the ways in which they're opening up to each other as they become more familiar.**

**Chapters might take a bit longer than just a couple of days each now - I had these first two kind of blocked out before I started, but now I only have a really vague idea of what I'm doing in each chapter, so bear with me. And let me know what you think! I love feedback and constructive criticism is always appreciated.**


	3. Evolution

**A/N: I thought this was going to be a bit of a filler chapter, and then it ended up getting away from me. Now it's like 500 words longer than the others. I guess I'm just a sucker for seeing these teenagers sitting around doing normal teen things once in a while.  
**

**This takes place somewhere in between the Ember Island Players and part one of Sozin's Comet.**

**Evolution**

'Okay, okay, I've got one: the moment when your bending first presented itsel-'

'Hey, not everyone here can bend, Katara!'

'Sokka, will you let me finish? The moment when your bending first presented itself _or_ the moment you first felt like a warrior. That work for you?'

'Very nicely, yes.'

Satisfied, her brother settles back onto his cushion, arm moving around Suki, and Katara rolls her eyes despairingly. The group is settled in the main room of the Fire Lord's long-vacant house on Ember Island, lamps lit and the sound of rain, unfamiliar in Fire Nation territory, drumming a soothing tempo on the roof.

It's the first evening they've spent inside since arriving on the island, and whilst it means a temporary interruption to their all-important training, Katara finds that she's savouring the chance for all of them to sit around on dusty floor-mats and talk and laugh and drink tea, the smell of the storm drifting in through the windows and sweeping out the mustiness that seems to cling to the neglected house.

'Well, we all know how Toph learned to earthbend,' Aang pipes up from his spot across from her. 'She already told us about running away from her parents and meeting the badgermoles.'

The young earthbender is stretched out flat on her back on the floor to Katara's left, arms cushioning her head and pale eyes grinning sightlessly at the ceiling.

'I told you I learned from them, Twinkletoes, I never said anything about the first time I actually managed it,' she retorts. 'I was six and bending had never even been mentioned in my house before, so it was completely new. But it was so natural for them, just a part of their lives, and it made sense to me. I went back home to my parents that evening, but every night after that I'd sneak out and follow them through their tunnels.

'By the fourth trip, I could feel the earth paying attention to what I was doing, and I got so excited about it that I sent a rock straight into the nose of one of the badgermoles that had been guiding me. For a second I was scared, but they just flicked stones back at me so I could keep practising.' Her face crinkles at the memory. 'Turns out they're used to getting hit, when they're teaching their own litters how to bend – they just treated me like any other badgermole pup who didn't know what it was doing.'

Aang's eyes are wide with awe.

'Wow, Toph, that's even better than the first time you told it.'

Sokka sniggers.

'Yeah, and at least you were _trying_ to bend instead of throwing a tantrum like Katara was when she first bent water.'

'Sokka!' Katara feels her chest brim instantly with indignation and leans forwards, glaring at her brother. 'That is _not_ what happened, and you know it. _You_ put snowballs in my boots.'

'Yeah, and then _you_ threw a tantrum about it.' Sokka leans into the circle and covers his mouth conspiratorially, voice dropping into a stage-whisper. 'Funnily enough, the snow did not help her cool off.'

'I was five and I'd just stuck my foot into a boot half-full of melted snow, any normal person would've gotten upset!' She fixes her attention on the rest of the group, their amused gazes moving back and forth between the siblings. A smile starts playing on her own face. 'I shrieked and threw the boot on the floor, and as I turned to yell at Sokka all the slush came flying out of it and hit him in the face.'

The group breaks into laughter as Sokka comes up onto his knees and raises his hand to point at Katara.

'Aha! So you admit that without me you wouldn't have discovered your bending. You are welcome.'

The waterbender, now laughing herself, brings a hand to her chest and injects a heavy dose of sarcasm into her voice.

'Well, thank you, my _dearest_ brother, for helping me find the power to douse you in cold water whenever you get too annoying.'

On her right, Zuko snorts.

Suki giggles from her seat next to Sokka and lays a hand on his back.

'If that's what it takes then I'm surprised you don't spend more time in wet clothes.'

He turns to her, appalled.

'Suki! You're meant to be on my side!'

'I have no idea where you got that impression.' She laughs again at the look on his face, then tugs on his arm to bring him back down to sitting, silently appeasing him with a long stroke down from his shoulder to wind her fingers in his. 'Tell us about the first time you felt like a warrior.'

The teenager's face relaxes, turning pensive at the request.

'You know, if you'd asked me a year ago, I would've said that I always felt like a warrior because that's what Dad was. Or it would've been the day he gave me my boomerang.' His eyes take on a faraway look, glazed in memory. 'That day sucked pretty hard, because I knew that he was leaving with the fleet to go and fight, but I also felt like he was passing the protection of the tribe over to me.'

Katara notices the way that Suki watches him as he talks, her smile half-teasing, half-doting, eyes warm. It stirs something in her; a swell of happiness for what Sokka has found, but at the same time a sharp pang of longing for something similar herself. It never used to be a desire that snagged at her all that frequently, the pressures of the war taking up most of her headspace, but recently certain – her eyes flicker briefly to Aang before landing back on Sokka – _events_ had pushed it closer to the forefront of her mind.

Now it feels as though her head is almost constantly buzzing with questions – even when it's just happening quietly at the edges of her thoughts, it's still there.

She's pulled back to the conversation as her brother keeps talking.

'But now I think my answer's changed. Back when we were based in Ba Sing Se, before we realised that Azula and her cronies had taken over and you guys got thrown into that crystal cave place-' He waves offhandedly in the direction of Katara and Zuko. '- I had gone out to find Dad in Chameleon Bay. Four Fire Nation ships were spotted just off the coast and Dad told everyone to prepare to fight. He said, "the rest of you men, get ready for battle". He meant me, too.'

Katara feels a smile spread across her face at his words.

'Sokka. I know how much it must have meant for Dad to include you like that.'

'Yeah,' he says, dipping his head, 'it really did.'

Suki leans forward and rests her chin on Sokka's shoulder.

'That was really sweet.'

He bumps the side of his head lightly against hers.

'Your turn, then. When did you first feel like you knew what you were doing?' He laughs. 'Bet it was something crazy like saving a bunch of orphans from a gang of bandits on goat gorillas, right?'

She pulls back from him, a self-conscious smile quirking her mouth.

'Actually, something kinda like that, yeah. Not quite as dramatic.'

Toph pushes up so that she's sitting, legs still stretched out in front of her, hands fisted in anticipation.

'Finally, someone with something exciting to tell us. Not that your corny story wasn't thrilling, Snoozles.'

She leans over and thumps him hard on the leg, ignoring his squawk of pain and indignation as she settles back again to listen to Suki's story.

'Okay, so I started training as a Kyoshi warrior when I was eight – I was the oldest student in my village, so by the time I was twelve I was teaching some of the younger girls. Every couple of months, we would travel to the main port so that we could convene with the more senior members and learn some more advanced techniques, stuff like that.'

'Advanced fan fighting, wooh, yeah!' cheers Sokka. Suki shoots him a look that's a mixture of exasperation and amusement.

'You could call it that. Anyway, I was a couple of weeks off my fourteenth birthday, and we were all staying at the capital training centre. I couldn't sleep, so I went for a walk around the port – it must've been the early hours of the morning by then. As I was coming around one of the bends towards the main street, I heard voices. The accents were strange, definitely not Kyoshi locals, and I stopped to eavesdrop on what they were saying.'

By now, the group is still, listening intently to Suki's story.

'They were talking about breaking into the governor's house, with plans to kidnap his son and hold him for ransom.'

'Pirates,' Zuko asserts quietly.

'But wait, what about the unagi?' Katara cuts in. 'Surely no pirates in their right minds would try to land on Kyoshi?'

Suki shrugs.

'The unagi isn't failsafe. Sometimes people get past it – I mean, you guys did without even knowing it was there. Most pirates steer clear of the island, but occasionally we get some that are a bit braver or more stupid and give it a shot.'

'I'm assuming these ones were the stupid kind?' guesses Katara.

'They didn't strike me as being particularly intelligent, no. But they'd made it that far and they sounded as though they meant business. There wasn't time to go for help, so...'

The group sits in anticipation.

'So... what?' Aang asks after a couple of moments, face curious and eager.

Suki shrugs again, her cheeks flushing slightly.

'So I took them out myself.'

There's silence for a moment.

'How many?' Zuko queries, causing Suki to shuffle awkwardly on her mat.

'Five?' It comes out sounding like a question.

'_Five?_' exclaims Sokka, jumping up from his seat and gesturing wildly at his girlfriend. 'You took out _five_ fully-grown men in hand-to-hand combat when you were _thirteen_?'

'Almost fourteen!' Suki shoots back, bordering on defensive. 'And pirates can be young and female too, Sokka.'

'Yeah, but were they?' Toph interjects, her face lit up.

Suki takes a breath, holds, then sighs in defeat.

'No.'

'So you took out five fully-grown men in hand-to-hand combat when you were thirteen.'

There's a whistle to Katara's right as Zuko exhales hard.

'Impressive. If you're up for sparring sometime, it's been a while since I really worked on my non-bending stuff.'

'Hey, any time you fancy getting beaten then just let me know, Princey Pants.'

Sokka dives back to the floor and throws his arms around the Kyoshi warrior.

'I am with the _coolest girl_. Really bad at nicknames, but other than that just _so_ cool.'

The girl in question drops her head into him, chuckling lightly, the awkwardness still bright on her face. Moonlight streams through the window behind them, the rain now passed and clouds dissipated, and Aang looks around their circle.

'Everyone has such good stories. I just always knew I was an airbender.'

'Really?' queries Katara. 'Always?'

The young monk lifts a shoulder and nods.

'All the Air Nomads are benders, we're all raised with it – before I left the Southern Temple I'd never met anyone who couldn't airbend. I just grew up playing with mini-gliders and sneezing hard enough to blow out lamps across the other side of the room. It was pretty great.'

'It sounds like it.' Aang's face splits into a wide grin at Katara's words.

'This is why it was such a trek getting you on top of earthbending, Twinks – the airbender was so deep in you that it took Sokka's life being in danger to drag out anything else.'

'Yeah, and I did not appreciate being used like that, thank you!'

'Pipe down, Snoozles.'

Aang lets out a short, light-hearted laugh, then turns to face Zuko.

'You're up, Sifu Hotman!'

The name draws a wince from the dark-haired teenager, and chuckles ripple around the rest of the group. He leans forwards, one elbow resting on his knee as he reaches for the long-cold tea sitting on the floor in between him and Katara. As if only for something to do, he pours as he addresses Aang.

'I was never a natural like you; that was always my sister.'

The effect on the younger boy is immediate, his face paling at the comparison.

'Azula? I'm like Azula?'

'That's not what I'm saying,' Zuko counters evenly. 'I just mean that it took longer than would've been good for my bending to present itself.'

'You mean you haven't always been so full of hot air?' Sokka jumps in, and the others groan at his poorly-placed joke, Toph reaching out to punch him again. Aang keeps his attention on Zuko.

'How long?'

'I was almost five.'

The room erupts into noise, everyone disputing Zuko's words.

'That's younger me and Sugar Queen over here.'

'Four years old is pretty early for someone to present as a bender, isn't it?'

'I thought you were gonna say you were _twelve_ or something.'

'No, you guys don't understand.' The room quiets again. 'When I was young, my father was convinced that I wasn't a firebender. He told me once, years later, that I wasn't born with that "spark in my eyes", and that he had planned to cast me from the palace – it would've brought immense shame on the family for the heir to the Fire Nation throne to be a non-bender. My mother and the Fire Sages stopped him, persuaded him to give me a chance.'

He's not speaking with the same sense of torment that Katara knows would've been heavy in his words before – now he's just stating the facts, telling them a part of his story that he's already well along the path to outgrowing.

The gang sits in shocked silence for a moment, digesting what he's just said.

'Wow, Zuko,' Aang croaks into the quiet, 'is there any part of your backstory that isn't... You know...'

'Horribly tragic?' Katara quips, an edge of a joke in her voice, a suppressed smile that looks something like a challenge on her face.

Over the last weeks, she's come to understand the firebender's sense of humour, dry and cracked like earth under a hot sun, and she's rewarded now by the glint that comes into Zuko's eyes as his eyebrow quirks in her direction.

'How do you think I got like this?'

He's just out of arm's reach, but Katara nudges him in the ribs with her foot and he chuckles in response.

Sokka's eyes flick back and forth between them.

'Okay, horribly tragic life – weird thing to joke about, guys, but whatever. You still haven't told us how you discovered you could bend.'

'Right. So like I said, it had been obvious that my sister was a bender almost since she was born – she was always shooting sparks from her fingers and breathing out smoke when she got upset – but she couldn't control it very well until she was older. One day when we were playing inside, she accidentally set fire to some curtains. I grabbed the candle out of a nearby lamp and pulled the flames from the fabric to the candle without even thinking about it. The curtains were fine and Azula didn't get in trouble with our mother.'

Katara leans back on her elbows as Zuko speaks, watching his face as he reminisces. His mouth is pulled into an uneven smile, hands twitching in his lap as if to mimic the movements of his younger self.

She feels her own face soften, warmth tweaking the corners of her lips as her eyes move over him. He catches her gaze and looks back at her warily.

'What?'

Katara's eyebrows raise, the smile stuck on her face.

'Oh, nothing. It's just, discovering your firebending because you were trying to keep your sister from getting into trouble?' She prods him again with her foot. 'I never knew the Fire Prince was such a big softie at heart.'

His eyes narrow good-humouredly, scarred face twisting over the expression.

'He isn't. Keep sticking your foot in his side and you'll find out.'

She laughs, jaw setting defiantly, and the ball of her foot momentarily meets his ribs again before his hand shoots out and locks itself around her ankle. They scramble briefly, him grabbing for her other foot and her snorting with laughter as she kicks out, trying to get free. And it's all just playing along (because, really, what's he actually going to do?), but it feels good to let go of their more serious selves that have had to grow up all too fast in the face of war.

It feels good to just joke around without thoughts of Sozin's Comet clouding the evening.

It feels good to see his eyes light in a way that she doesn't think she's seen before now.

Zuko tugs hard on her ankle, pulling her across the floor towards him as he fights to hold on through her struggling, and then she's drawing the fluid out of everyone's cups and holding it in a flash-cooled, icy ball over his head.

'Let me go, or by the spirits...'

'You think a cup of water is a threat?'

'I think the things I can do with it are.'

He huffs, but releases his hold nonetheless, eyes still dancing behind his fringe of dark hair.

As they settle back onto their floor-mats, Katara becomes abruptly aware that the rest of the group is staring, expressions ranging from bemused to entertained.

'What?' she queries, the last traces of laughter still turning in her voice.

'Was that Sparky laughing just then?' Toph sticks a finger in her ear and twists it aggressively. 'I think my ears are malfunctioning.'

'Your ears are working just fine, Toph, I think Zuko's the one malfunctioning,' Sokka remarks, brow halfway towards his hairline.

'I could go back to talking about how the universe hates me, if you want.'

'See! He never would've said that before. _He's becoming self-aware_.'

'Sokka, let the poor guy laugh at stuff.'

'There you go again – seriously, you're meant to be on my side!'

Katara can't help but notice that Aang is uncharacteristically quiet, eyes flitting between her and Zuko, perplexed. She catches his gaze and frowns questioningly, but he turns quickly away and addresses the rest of the group with a forced cheeriness.

'Well, that's that question answered – anyone got another one?'

Outside the window, the clouds are rolling in again and the rain starts up once more. The buzzing in Katara's head gets louder, and it won't let up.

**A/N: Oh man, Sokka and Aang are tricky. I was really pushing myself here, 'cause group scenes are absolutely not my favourites to write, but it ended up feeling like a necessary part in the story, so there you go.**


	4. Conflict

**A/N: And it only took her three times as long as the previous chapters. I'm not gonna lie, I struggled this week - I've been working a lot and been down with a disgusting cold, so I've barely had the time to write properly, but even when I did... I dunno y'all, this one was not forthcoming for some reason. Every time I tried to write it, I'd just end up writing bits of other things.**

**Anyway, we've reached the first part of Sozin's Comet!**

**Conflict**

The sun is halfway into its descent through the sky, shadows moving across the courtyard as Aang and Zuko stand opposite each other, readying for another lesson.

'There's one technique you need to know before facing my father: how to redirect lightning.'

Sat on the steps that border the square, Katara sees the airbender's face light up. Zuko sinks into a stance that looks oddly similar to her own starting position when waterbending, and begins demonstrating the form used to turn ice-hot power through the body and blast it back at the person who created it.

'If you let the energy in your own body flow, the lightning will follow it. You turn your opponent's energy against them.'

His movements strike a familiarity in her, so it doesn't really come as a surprise when he confirms that the technique was inspired by observing waterbenders at work.

As she watches the two boys move in tandem, Aang now copying Zuko's actions, she's struck by the differences between them.

The former stands a full arrowed head shorter than his teacher, all big eyes and long limbs that he has yet to grow fully into, moving with a grace that belies his apparent youthfulness. It's fitting, Katara thinks, for someone so naive and yet so insightful, someone so gentle and carefree at heart and yet so timeworn and burdened by responsibility. But his appearance only hints at the incredible history and power that he holds – he would be all too easy to underestimate for those not paying attention.

By contrast, the defected heir to the Fire Nation throne wears his story on every part of him. Lean and solid, jaded and scarred from years of conflict, he nonetheless retains some sense of imperial poise, jaw sharp and chin lifted. He is more man than boy now, more world-wearied than any sixteen-year-old should be, but a glint in his golden eyes tells of an exuberance that he is only now beginning to find again after too long pushing it aside.

They move in parallel in the courtyard, two distinct dichotomies, and for a short time they are balanced, stable. Then come Zuko's words, dark and foreboding.

'You'll have to take the Fire Lord's life, before he takes yours.'

With that, Katara feels the equilibrium shift, the tension sink in. Zuko walks away into the house, and she's left watching as Aang deflates into himself, the weight of duty bearing down once again. She's not sure there's anything she can say that will make it better.

* * *

_This isn't enough._

Zuko and Katara are fighting alongside each other again, scaling their way up the craggy hill to where Toph is standing, gleeful, as she tosses flaming rocks in their direction. But as much as she's enjoying her role-

'I am not Toph, I am _Melon Lord_!' Zuko rolls his eyes as he sprints for his next point of cover.

As much as she's _revelling_ in her role, and casually putting them all in what could reasonably be called mortal danger in the process, he knows it doesn't come close to what they'll really be facing in three days' time.

_This is nowhere _near_ enough_.

But then, he thinks, it isn't really about the realism of it all – this drill isn't for them, it's for Aang. And if this is what the kid needs to understand what has to be done to defeat the Fire Lord, he's happy to run through the motions as many times as is needed.

He tilts, swerving away from Katara to avoid another of the earthbender's pitches before converging back on their route up the hill. They're halted in their progress for a fleeting moment by a ring of stone soldiers, closing in on them swiftly from all sides. He feels rather than sees Katara's movements behind him as they back into each other, rallying wordlessly to reduce their marks to dust in a matter of seconds, and then they're running again, each trusting the other to match pace.

'Now, Aang!'

Zuko hears the command, watches the young monk as he flies towards their target... And then slackens, exasperated, as Aang falters at the last moment.

'What are you waiting for? Take him out!'

'I can't.'

And he's readying himself to be _that guy_ again – the one who hauls out the heavy truths, who raises his voice and lowers the mood and reminds everyone of the cost of war that they so desperately want to overlook.

But then Sokka is stalking up the last stretch of hill to place himself between Aang and their hastily-erected dictator, and _he's_ the one who takes that hit, his usually excitable demeanour lost momentarily to the humourlessness of someone forced to lead too young. Zuko knows the feeling. Sokka's sword flashes in the dying light, and it's a grim victory to see that he isn't the only one who understands how war really operates.

* * *

The last dregs of sun are streaked across the sky, clouds stained in colour as the day comes to an end. Steep lines of shadow creep along the cracks in the cliff that shelters the house, pushed back only briefly with each burst of flame that erupts in the courtyard.

Catching the flashes of light through the door, Katara lays down the flint that she had just picked up to start dinner, and makes her way outside.

She's met by the sight of Zuko, alone, running through strings of complex firebending katas which send him spinning across the square. His shirt lies flung onto the steps that lead down from the house, and frustration is roiling off his bare shoulders, shadows flickering across the muscles in his back with the torque and release of his movements.

It stalls her, for some reason, the breath that was about to become words catching somewhere at the back of her tongue and holding for a few airless seconds, before coming loose in a single, disconcerting exhale as her lungs remember how to function. Heat rushes to her face and she wavers on the steps, halfway between leaving and not leaving for a moment, before turning stiffly back towards the house, her feet somehow not stepping as surely as she tells them to.

'Did you want something?'

She feels her shoulders tighten under his words, her movements still clumsy as she twists back towards him. The flames have abated for a moment, Zuko moving easily through a few steps of transition before his next set, and Katara turns her gaze to the trees, the cliff... Anything but him.

'I...' Swallowing the uncertainty that sticks in her throat, she wills her voice to come out sounding normal. 'No, actually, I just thought perhaps Aang might be out here. I wanted to make sure he was okay.'

Zuko only grunts in response, punching out a rapid stream of fire blasts at the wall opposite him. The irritation that rises off him like steam pulls her eyes back to him, relief loosening the tension in her neck as she feels her awkwardness give way to something simpler, more familiar.

'You're working hard.'

At that, the teenager straightens up and turns to frown at her, annoyance scored into the lines of his face.

'Everyone should be. The comet comes in three days, Katara – three days before my dad and his soldiers sear the Earth Kingdom out of existence.' He huffs and settles back into his stance. 'Running forms isn't ideal at this point, but seeing as the Avatar is losing his head over things it's the best I've got.'

'Is calling him "the Avatar" your way of trying to make it seem like you don't care about him?'

'What?' His scowl deepens, taking on a note of petulance. 'No.'

'He's really struggling, Zuko. The whole idea of ending a life... I _know_, I know that it looks like it's the only option at this point, but he needs time to sort it out.'

'Well, he doesn't _have_ time! He _has_ three days, and that's time he should be spending training, not searching for spiritual exemption.'

She raises an eyebrow and stays silent for a moment, Zuko's words echoing faintly off the rocks around them as he rubs at the back of his neck and turns, aggravated, away from her. She waits a few seconds more before speaking.

'You know, Aang isn't the only person you can practise bending with around here.' He pauses, tilts his head back in her direction. 'I could help out with that. If you want.'

He's quiet for a second, as if thrown by her change in subject.

'Really?'

'I mean, it's not as if we haven't fought each other before, right?' She steps down onto the stones of the courtyard, shooting a wry look over her shoulder at Zuko as she crosses to stand opposite him. 'It'll be like old times.'

There's a hint of a smile in his eyes as he appraises her.

'Hopefully not too much.'

A determined grin spills across her face, and she brings her arms up in front of her, palms open, relaxed and ready. The back of her neck is already prickling, feeling the pull from the river that winds its way seaward through the forest bordering the house.

'Go on, then – give me your best shot.'

Everything is still for a moment.

Then Zuko steps forward and launches into his first offence. He doesn't hold back, firing out a blazing volley of fire in her direction, one after the other, and Katara finds herself having to dart out of the way before she's brought any water into the fight at all.

But as she moves, one arm curls back, the other arching in the space above her head as she sways the path of the river behind her, summoning a wave that roars out from the trees and almost knocks her opponent off his feet.

She leaps into a run, using the momentum to pull more water along with her before she lets it take her in its current, bending in a wide arc around the firebender so that he's forced to turn in order to follow her movements.

A stream of fire bursts through the swell that carries her, her support dissipating into the air. She drops hard, but her feet are sure as they find the ground and she lands with her palms planed in his direction, pushing forwards to try and force him back into a defensive stance.

They dance around the courtyard, weaving in and out through each other's strikes, steam pluming up into the air at the points where their forces meet.

A particularly blistering flash of heat sends her into a hasty spin, and when she comes back around to face him she falters for a split-second, balance caught just barely by hours of training worked slowly into her muscle memory – the silver of the moon is gleaming across the planes of Zuko's body, throwing sharp highlights across his face. Glowing drops of water fall from the dark untidiness of his hair, and he looks like something surreal, almost unearthly, a creature of the sun swimming in moonlight.

She's left off-kilter, unready to meet his next round of fire, and the most she can do is defend against the blows as he pushes her one, two, three steps back. Grounding lost, she thinks she's done, out of the game.

But then her back foot finds a place to plant itself, and she's only been pushed closer to the tree line and the stream that flows there, and her focus is back.

Turning low and fast, Katara feels the tugging on her skin as the water follows her. She steps out of the spin, her weight shifting to her front foot, and both hands drive forwards, hard, in Zuko's direction. The river water surges around her in an immersing, unrelenting rush that douses any attempt he makes at defending himself, forcing him back until he meets the wall of the house and there's nowhere left to go.

Katara moves with the water, _through_ it, and then she's there, hand pinning him hard to the wall, icy shard held strong at his neck.

Even in losing, his eyes are burning with the thrill of the fight, breath coming in deep pulls now that the onslaught of water has subsided. They're locked in their final frame, Katara's hold not loosened by her victory, adrenaline still running sharp in her veins.

His voice sounds distant through the thrumming of her blood in her ears.

'I almost had you there, for a second.'

The moment yields, and she relaxes her grip, face softening into a smile as she steps back from him.

'Almost. But the moon is out.'

She busies herself with drawing the water out her clothes, pulling it through her hair to rinse out the sweat as she moves away towards the house, but his words follow her, making her stop and look back at him in confusion.

'You don't need to do that, you know.'

'Do what?'

He makes his way past her to where his shirt lies, shaking the grit out of it before pulling it back over his shoulders and tying it closed.

'Play down your win, say you beat me because of the moon. You know how good you are.'

His gaze is, in some way, more intense now than it had been during their match. She crosses her arms and cocks her head, smile tugging at the corners of her mouth even as she feels herself tipping once again onto unsolid ground.

'I guess I do.'

'In that case, you don't have to try to make me feel better about losing to you. There's no shame in an honest defeat.'

'Where'd you get that from, a fortune cookie?'

'My uncle.' His lips quirk. 'Which is pretty much the same thing, really.'

She laughs out loud at that, bumping his shoulder with hers as she draws level and they head together up the steps back into the house.

'Well, I guess you're just going to have to step up your game next time.'

For a moment, the weight of her words hits her as she realises that they may well be nearing the point where there is no more _next time_, that in a matter of days everything will have changed completely, for better or worse. His jaw tightens and she knows that he's thinking the same thing, but then he lets loose a quiet breath and looks sideways at her, and his smile is bittersweet.

'I plan to.'

**A/N: Guys, I just really wish we could've seen more of them interacting day-to-day. Please let me know what you thought, particularly given that this was bloody ordeal to write! ******Hopefully I'll get my words back for the next one. And b**ig shout-out to IDidn'tSignUp4This - thank you for all your lovely comments!  
**


	5. Ache

**A/****N: Man, this bug has really been giving me a run for my money, guys. It seems like every year or so I catch something that just knocks me right off my perch for a good week at least, but this one is super persistent. I work with kids, which I'm pretty sure is the source of basically any bug I ever catch, but I'm holding out hope that one day my immune system will catch up with my job and then I'll be grand. Right now, no such luck.  
**

**But anyway, we're on the second part of Sozin's Comet! And we're back with Zuko again.**

**Ache**

It had been his idea to camp outside the wall of Ba Sing Se for the night, and he stands by that decision – they've travelled for a full day, following June across the Earth Kingdom and ending up outside its capital a couple of hours after nightfall.

Sokka falls impressively unconscious almost immediately, his loud snores resounding off the vast plane of stone that looms over them, and the others drift off in his wake, the call for some much-needed rest pulling them in quickly.

Katara twitches a few feet away, restless in sleep.

But Zuko has been drifting in and out, his mind plagued by thoughts of his uncle's face the last time they saw each other; with any luck, they'll have found him before the comet hits tomorrow, and Zuko can't force down the dread that swirls in the pit of his stomach at the thought of facing the man whom he'd let down so crushingly before.

He draws in a sharp breath as he feels the weight of his betrayal bear down on him, the guilt prickling across his skin like fire ants.

'Zuko?'

The whisper is unexpected, and as Katara lifts her head and rolls to face him from her spot on Appa's back leg, he thinks perhaps she hasn't been asleep this whole time.

'Yeah.'

'You're still awake.'

Any other night, he may well have pulled out his fears and laid them in front of her, knowing she'd know what he needed to hear, but tonight is different. Tonight, they're on the precipice of a confrontation that's been a year in the making for all of them, a clash whose outcome will sway the balance of the whole world. Now isn't the time.

So he deflects.

'So are you. Waterbending stuff again?'

'Not tonight.' She shifts up into a sitting position and turns to face him fully, her face twisted in a grimace under the moonlight. 'My shoulder's aching like Adlivun. It's making it hard to get comfortable.'

A couple of days previous, Katara had been sparring with Toph in the courtyard – the two of them had been pushing hard to one-up the other, when a sudden twist and swing of her arm had pulled something in her shoulder and stopped her short.

Zuko sits up.

'I thought you healed that?'

She shakes her head glumly.

'I tried. I iced it when it first happened, but it's in just the wrong place for me to be able to reach it properly, and now it's stiffened up so much that there's no chance of me getting a hand close enough to heal it.' Her left hand reaches absentmindedly across to the opposite side of her neck, as if trying to prove herself wrong. 'I was going to make a hot poultice for it tonight, try to loosen it up, but we don't really have any of the stuff I'd need to be able to do that, so...'

There's silence for a moment, and Zuko clasps his hands together, feeling the heat in them rise almost involuntarily as he looks at her.

'I might be able to help.'

Her gaze flits back to him, mild surprise lifting her eyebrows.

'You know, I hadn't even thought of that.' She pauses, studying him across the gap between them. 'If you could then that could be really useful.'

'It won't fix it.'

'No, I know. It'll have tightened up again by morning. I think when it matters I'll be able to fight past it – I mean, I'll probably pay for it afterwards but that's how it is. For now I'd just really like to be able to get some sleep before tomorrow.'

She sounds almost apologetic, uncomfortable, as if she were the one to suggest it in the first place and now she's worried that he'll think she's imposing. And although he's quick to alleviate that concern by gesturing her over, Zuko feels what he assumes is a similar sense of self-consciousness sweep over him as she stands from her seat.

It strikes him, somewhat suddenly, that he's never really _touched_ her before.

Okay, so perhaps that was an exaggeration – casual contact had become much more commonplace between the two of them over the previous weeks, working its way into their day-to-day lives as they got more comfortable with each other. But it was always functional or joking or, if neither of those, fleeting.

This is much more... _deliberate_, and he feels less grounded, less solid than he would like. Intimacy, in any form, has never really been his strong point, and the sense settles over him, insubstantial and alien enough that it doesn't quite take root in conscious thought, that there is a whole basket of turtleduck eggs just waiting to be spilled at this particular juncture.

It comes as a stark relief when, as she perches on Appa's leg in front of him, the teasing note in Katara's voice brings him back into the moment.

'You'd better not set my hair on fire.'

He bites back a laugh and injects a tone of seriousness into his words.

'There is a small risk of that.'

'What?' Tensing, she twists to look at him, her movement limited by the stiffness in her back, and sees the poorly-concealed smile that slants his face. She rolls her eyes and huffs slightly as she turns back around. 'Funny. Anyone ever tell you how funny you are?'

'Surprisingly, not a trait that I'm known for.'

She snorts, her good arm coming up to pull her hair off her back and over her shoulder, and for a second Zuko hesitates. Because, in truth, this sort of thing works best with skin-to-skin contact, but that's really, _really_ not something that he wants to voice out-loud in this moment, so he keeps his mouth shut and lays a hand over the spot where her tunic follows the edge of her right shoulder blade.

He can practically feel her heart beating through the back of her chest, faster than he would usually expect. Carefully, he wills heat into his palm, acutely aware that if he pushes too hard then he'll end up singeing the cloth beneath his hand. His fingers wander gently around the ridges of her shoulder, searching for the source of her pain.

'Where am I going, here?'

She rolls her shoulder back, and he feels the muscles beneath his hand ripple.

'Lower down, a little more to the left.'

A sharp intake of breath tells him when he's found the right point, about halfway down between her spine and shoulder blade, and he presses his thumb more firmly over the tight knot of tissue that sits beneath her skin. Focussing, he directs a stronger pulse of heat through that spot, the rest of his hand still spread across her back, tips of his fingers curling over the top of her shoulder.

Katara leans away from him slightly at the sensation, and he brings his other hand up to her good shoulder to pull her gently back towards him, steadying her against the pressing of his fingers.

'Wow, that actually feels like it's working.'

'You don't need to sound so surprised.'

'Looks like we've finally found a use for you around here.'

He can hear the smile in her voice, and chuckles good-naturedly.

'I am _not_ working the kinks out of Sokka's neck when he complains that he's slept on it weirdly.'

'What? But he'd be so grateful!'

'Yeah, and I'm sure Appa would be grateful for a work-up on his tail after a day of flying. Doesn't mean I'm going to do it.'

They both laugh at that, careful not to wake the others, then fall into a companionable silence as Zuko continues to probe at the dense pocket of muscle in her back.

It's a couple of minutes before she speaks again.

'Don't think I didn't notice that you avoided telling me what's keeping you up.'

He feels himself tense a little, inadvertently increasing the pressure he's putting on the knot under his thumb, and she gasps out a laugh.

'Ow, alright, I get it! You don't have to talk about it if you don't want to.'

'Sorry.'

'No, it's okay.' A sigh, and her voice quietens a little, becoming more sincere. 'It's a big night. I don't think any of us feel normal right now.' A particularly loud snore sounds from the direction of Appa's tail. 'Although Sokka's giving it a pretty good shot.'

'Yeah, your brother is something else.'

Zuko turns his attention to the hand still pressed against her shoulder, working his thumb up the side of her spine from the point where it'd previously been focussed. She shifts, and some of her hair spills down across her back. He reaches up automatically to push it out of the way again just as she does the same, and their hands meet briefly at the back of her neck before she pulls quickly away, as if burned.

He stills, breath catching in his chest and mouth opening and closing silently for a second before words come.

'Sorry, I-'

'No, it's okay. Go ahead.'

Her voice sounds different, tauter, and she clears her throat quietly before falling silent. He doesn't know if not being able to see her face is making things worse or better.

Bringing his hand up again, he pulls her hair to the side, fingers grazing across the nape of her neck as he draws it off her back and over her left shoulder. She pulls in a tight breath, but otherwise she's still, frozen; he can feel the muscles in her back, solid under the hand that still sits there.

'Um, can you-'

'Yeah, yeah, of course.'

She reaches back and gathers up the hair that he holds, securing it out of the way, and her fingers brush over his again as she does so. This time, he's the one who pulls back.

It's new, this flicker in his gut, this tightness that winds itself around his throat and squeezes down on his ribs.

Or, rather... Not _new_ new. He's felt it before, a couple of times, just not with her. And, looking back, he doesn't think it's ever been quite so confusing or daunting or downright inconvenient before. Because, spirits, they're in the middle of a _war_, and Agni knows they've been through enough just to get to a place where they can talk and laugh and be open with each other, and he hasn't really thought about it before now but it strikes him abruptly and with irrefutable certainty that Katara is someone he sort of really _needs_ in his life.

He never liked that idea before – the thought of needing people. But over the past couple of months or so, he's had to make peace with the fact that he does. It's been pretty inescapable.

He needs his uncle, however sharply undeserving he may feel of the old man's love right now.

He needs his mother, as she exists in his memory, held tight across years of bad choices and bitter shame.

He needs the people sleeping around him now, each of them in their own way – something he never expected nor intended.

And he needs her. The realisation is heavy and kind of terrifying, because of course he's only just coming to this conclusion right as he's feeling this other new _thing_, something which could wind its way in and crack the closeness that has taken so much to build.

No. No way, not happening. He's not going to risk all that for one moment of... what, attraction? Desire?

He blinks hard, honing his attention in once again on the hand that rests against her back, resuming the path that his thumb had been tracking up the edge of her spine.

When she speaks, he's relieved to hear that her voice sounds normal again.

'You know you're moving away from the sore part, right?'

When he speaks, he's relieved to hear that his voice sounds normal too.

'Just trust me, it'll help.'

He presses down, and there's a second knot under his thumb, sitting at the spot where the muscle that runs up the side of her spine meets the back of her head.

'Ow! Spirits...' A choked laugh, a quick glance around the campsite to check she hasn't woken anyone. 'Yeah, okay, I believe you.'

He feels his lips press together in a smile as he pushes more heat through his fingers. The tension is still sitting, weighty, in his chest, but it starts to ease as they step back into known territory.

'You should do that more often – I'm usually right.'

'Really? That's what you're going with? Mr. _The-Universe-Hates-Me_ is bragging right now?'

'I'm sometimes right.'

She chuckles at the amendment, then falls silent for a second. Frowning, Zuko feels her neck begin to tighten up again under his fingers, and he presses more heat through into her skin in an attempt to remedy it.

'Zuko? Can I ask-...' She pauses for a second, and her next words come haltingly, a failed shot at sounding casual. 'Why did June think I was your girlfriend?'

Oh.

Katara shifts awkwardly in front of him.

'She said it before as well, back when you first used her to help you find us.'

Crap.

The air feels thick again, and that weight that pulls on his lungs is back, and jeez, this is exactly the sort of thing he doesn't need right now. His hand drops away from her, coming to rest in his lap as he pulls back, the contact between them broken.

'Um, okay. Back when I... hired her to find Aang, I needed to give her shirshu a scent to track. At that point, I still had your necklace after, um... You remember...'

'The time you tied me to a tree and tried to use my mother's missing necklace to bribe me into telling you where Aang was?' He feels himself relax just a little as she deadpans, turning to eye him side-on, brow cocked. 'It rings a bell, yes.'

'Right, uh... Right. It was the only thing I had that I thought would work. She just kind of assumed that I was looking for some girl who'd, you know... left me,' he finishes lamely.

Katara releases a breath that isn't quite a laugh.

'You can't have done a very good job briefing her, if she thought it was me you were looking for instead of Aang.'

'I tried. She was difficult to dissuade.'

He hears her take in a slow breath, then she turns, twisting where she sits to face him properly. She meets his eyes, blue on gold, and oh _man_ is he in Ba Sing Se without a map. It's not like he's blind – he's seen plenty of pretty girls before and he's never held any delusion that Katara isn't one of them, but this is the first time he's noticed it quite so acutely.

She's not saying anything, not looking away, eyes skimming over his face, and he thinks she looks just about as uncertain as he feels.

It passes through his mind that they both seem to be holding their breath.

Her lips part, and his eyes flick down to her mouth for a split-second before jumping back up to meet her gaze again. She inhales, as if readying to speak, then stops, her brow furrowing slightly as she looks suddenly away.

'Hey.' Her hand moves up to the nape of her neck, and she looks back at him, face clearing with realisation. 'I can turn properly.'

He's thrown, left reeling by the whiplash of the last few seconds, but he can't help responding to her smile with a slightly mystified one of his own.

She slips off Appa's leg to a stand and tilts her head to the side, testing the pull on the muscles in her shoulder, and the way the moon throws highlights along the curve of her neck feels almost cruel.

_Cheap shot_, Zuko thinks, eyes turning briefly towards the sky. _I'm seeing why you and Sokka got along._

When he brings his gaze back to Katara, she's stopped her stretching and is looking down at him, hand still rubbing absentmindedly at her shoulder, and there's a kind of breathless energy about her that feels just as penetrating as the stillness from before.

'Thanks, Zuko.' The smile that sits on her face is much more hesitant than he's used to seeing on her. 'That really helped.'

He shrugs slightly, aiming for nonchalant and probably landing on clumsy.

'Any time.'

She stands there for a moment longer, jaw working as if she's trying to say something more, but then she sucks in an abrupt breath and moves to turn away.

'Well, I guess we should try and sleep. Big day tomorrow.'

He nods, more to himself than anything given that she's not watching him anymore.

'Yeah. Big day.'

This is exactly what he'd been afraid of – this stiltedness that seems to hang in the air now, born from some flash of misdirected emotion fuelled by moonlight and fear and a need to know that they aren't alone at the eleventh hour. Agni, they're in touching distance of the crest of a war that has lasted a hundred years, and this strange, dense feeling is not the way he wants things to be between them when they meet whatever fates are waiting for them tomorrow.

'Katara?'

She lifts her head from where she's laid down and looks back at him, uncertain.

'Yeah?'

'It was actually the pirates that tied you to the tree.'

Her face twists, nonplussed for a moment, then she breaks out into a laugh that sounds reassuringly familiar and her hand flicks in his direction, a light spray of water misting over him.

'Shut up.'

Stable ground. Thank Agni. This is where they make sense.

Zuko grins as he lies down, turning to face away from her, warmth creeping through the pit of his stomach, and as he closes his eyes he thinks he might just manage to sleep for a while.

It's only a couple of hours later that he's wakened by the sound of Toph's stone tent being pulled suddenly back into the ground, and fire erupts around them.

**A/N: I wondered as I was writing this if it might be too much. But then I thought, if there's one thing we know about Zuko it's that he has a particular knack for getting a tad dramatic over things. I really like the notion that he's a bit too wrapped up in the novelty of the friendship that he and Katara are building to fully allow himself to accept that there's something else there.**

**As always, let me know your thoughts. I'm always keen for a bit of discourse about our favourite bunch of rebels!**


	6. Threshold

**A/N: Phew. You know, there were times when I truly thought this chapter was barely going to break a thousand words - I'd said most of what I thought I wanted to say by around the 950 mark. But then I started thinking, and suddenly I realised there was a fair bit more to tell around this point in the story, and now this is the longest chapter so far, so... Cool.**

**Up to this point, I've been writing inserts that can be slipped into the canon without any changes to the actual source material itself. This time, I've started playing with some actual edits on the series (in this chapter it mostly takes the form of extending Katara and Zuko's chat before he goes in to face his uncle) and this is going to start happening more and more as we peel away from canon and the story takes a new course.**

**Say hello to Iroh!**

**Threshold**

The old Masters stand before them, greeting those in the gang who are familiar and introducing themselves to those who aren't.

Zuko thinks he vaguely recognises the one who looks to be the oldest of them from that mess of a show they watched on Ember Island – the hunched man with an untamed shock of white hair and an eye that seems to protrude quite enthusiastically from his face – and Katara quickly introduces him to Jeong Jeong – someone he'd heard tell of as 'The Deserter' back home – but there's only one man in the group with whom he's personally acquainted.

Next to him, Sokka greets his old teacher.

'Master Piandao.'

Upon returning the teen's salutation, Piandao shifts his attention towards Zuko.

'Prince Zuko. It's been a while.'

They both bow, a short laugh making its way out of Zuko's mouth as he straightens.

'Long enough that calling me 'prince' seems a bit outdated, Master Piandao.'

The older man's eyes are gleaming, a magnanimous smile playing on his face.

'I think you'll find there are those of us who still very much support the retention of your title.'

Something about the way he smiles, the way he speaks, reminds Zuko of his uncle – a nervous excitement blooms suddenly in his chest as he realises that he knows why the Masters are here and what they represent.

So when Piandao gives explanation to their presence at the city walls, the name comes easily to Zuko's lips:

'The Order of the White Lotus.'

Then, almost too swiftly, they're clambering through rubble and making their way along the path that will lead him to confront his wrongs. He's grateful for the chatter that accompanies them – it's a much-needed distraction from the nervousness that swirls under his ribs.

Bumi's brand of conversation is particularly effective, he finds, the wizened king croaking and cackling his way through the story of how he took his city back from Fire Nation rule.

'So what about you guys? Did you do anything interesting on the day of the eclipse?'

Zuko shares a look with Sokka, and they come to a wordless agreement that there's a bit too much to unpack on the subject of that particular day to be worth getting into right now.

'Nah.'

'No, not really.'

The old man shrugs, his whole stooped body lurching with the motion.

'Oh well, there's always the next one – in three-hundred and eighty-two years!'

With that, the earthbender boosts himself up into the air atop a sizeable column of stone and is sent flying further down the path, hooting maniacally as he goes. The two young men walk in bemused silence for a moment as the echoes of his laughter fade away, and Zuko's voice seems to ring in its wake when he speaks.

'Wow, he's...'

'Insane? Yeah. Mad as a bag of squirrel toads.'

'Huh. So the Ember Island Players got that part right.'

'If anything I'd say they toned him down.'

'And he's the king of Omashu?'

'Yep. And an old friend of Aang's. Y'know, from before he ran away and became an Aangsicle.'

'What?'

'Uh-huh, the guy's like a thousand or something.'

'No kidding.'

'Hey, I'd forgotten that you trained with Piandao as well.'

'Yeah, and I started much earlier than you did.'

'That's obviously just because you needed more time to learn – no natural talent like me.'

'No natural talent, huh? Is that how I mastered fighting with duals?'

'I don't care how many duels you've had, the battlefield is where it really counts.'

'What? Ugh, no, you-... Dual _swords_, Sokka.'

'Oh. Well, that's just because you need two for every one of mine to be able to match me.'

'Didn't seem all that matched at the air temple.'

'Oh yeah? Who's the one who ended up with a lump the size of a hawk egg on his head?'

'Because you used your boomerang. _Illegally_.'

'No such thing as fighting fair in the real world. You gotta use every advantage you've got.'

'...It kills me that you've actually made a point.'

'I have! And you know why?'

'...Because the battlefield is where it really cou-'

'The battlefield is where it really counts! Point to Sokka.'

'Sure. I guess you need to take everything you can get.'

'Oh, okay, when all this is over we're having a rematch.'

'So long as you're happy being beaten again, buddy.'

'Bring it on, pal.'

* * *

The camp is quiet under the stars when they arrive. It lies a short walk from Ba Sing Se's inner wall, and as they approach over the crest of the craggy hill, Katara is surprised and more than slightly heartened by its size – where she had expected to see a few solitary tents, there stands a commune not dissimilar in size to her own village back in the South Pole.

'Wow, The White Lotus has more members than I would've thought.'

Pakku chuckles.

'This only represents some of our number. There are other camps similar to this one currently stationed in areas which we thought may need extra support when the comet arrives – Ozai has soldiers positioned all over the Earth Kingdom in preparation for his plan.'

Toph chips in over Katara's shoulder.

'With that many people involved, how have you managed to stay secret? There's always someone who blabs.'

'The White Lotus has been around for centuries, since before the birth of Avatar Kuruk; we have our methods.'

'Well, that's mysterious as monkey nuts.' She nudges Katara. 'Your new grandpa's pretty cool.'

Katara's look is lost on her. As always.

The boulders that form the entrance to the camp slide down into the ground under Bumi's command, and as they walk between the rows of tents Katara's attention is caught by Zuko's voice behind her.

'Where... Where is he?'

'Your uncle's in there, Prince Zuko.'

He moves away from the rest of them, and she feels her heart thumping hard in her chest on his behalf as he walks towards the tent, each step becoming slower, heavier, until he draws to a stop just short of the entryway. His whole body seems to sag, head bowing down, and he drops to a sit on the coarse grass.

'That doesn't seem good,' Toph mutters, and Katara shushes her briefly before breaking from the group and making her way towards Zuko.

As she draws level and his face comes into view, her breath catches at how vulnerable he seems, how stricken, and suddenly she can picture exactly how he must have looked as he knelt before Ozai when he was thirteen.

With a stab of sorrow and anger, she understands on a whole new level how much this must be taking out of him; the last time he wronged a man who was supposed to guide and protect him, the last time he knelt and begged forgiveness, he was met with fire and shame and a mark that he would bear forever.

And she knows that this time is different – _everyone_ knows that this time is different – but she also knows that the memories must be sitting on his shoulders and hissing in his ears as he sits just feet away from the prospect of absolution.

Not knowing quite what else to say, she asks the question that she already knows the answer to.

'Are you okay?'

Of course he isn't.

'You're sorry for what you did, right?'

Of course he is.

'Then he'll forgive you, he will.'

Of course he will.

But demons aren't tamed that easily.

'Why should he?'

'I think you said it yourself – he loves you.'

'Loved. I said _loved_. Past tense.'

She takes a breath, searching for the right thing to say. _Clearly gentle encouragement is not the way to go._

'Okay, so what, you think you're so awful that you've managed to completely annihilate your uncle's capacity for forgiveness? I think you need to give both yourself _and him_ a little credit.'

Zuko doesn't respond, jaw set and eyes fixed on the closed tent flap.

She sighs, searches, tries again.

'Look, by any chance might you be assuming the worst here, Zuko? You're hardly famous for your optimism.'

That gets him – he twists towards her, voice rising in the still of the night.

'You expect me to be optimistic?'

Her eyebrow lifts.

'No, no one does – that's exactly my point.'

He stalls, turns back away from her, grumbles something under his breath that she doesn't quite catch, and she feels the corners of her mouth tighten a little as she tries not to smile.

'You don't understand what he did for me. He gave up everything – he stepped down from his place in court, he left his home, he went against direct orders from my dad, his _brother_... Pretty much the whole of the Fire Nation sees him as a laughing stock now, and he did all that just so he could come with me when I was banished to make sure I was okay. The only thing he cared about was helping me to find the right path. He believed in me, _always_. And when it came down to it all I did was prove that he shouldn't have.'

Katara's smile fades with his words, a frown passing over her face as she digests what he's said.

'Okay, but hold on... Don't you think that you being here at all says something completely different?'

'What do you mean?'

His tone is bordering on defeated, and she huffs in frustration before knocking him lightly on the shoulder to jolt him into looking at her.

'I _mean_... You think he must hate you because you let him down and showed him that he was wrong to believe in you, right? But do you think that he might just see this as proof that he was actually right the whole time? Because why would you be here if you weren't the person that he always thought you were?'

He doesn't respond, but she can see the muscles in his jaw twitching as her words settle, and something in his face lightens just a fraction.

'Zuko?'

'Yeah.'

'Get up.'

And, after a slight narrowing of his eyes at her, he does just that, his hand brushing fleetingly against her shoulder in a sign of gratitude as he stands and makes his way slowly to the flap of Iroh's tent.

A final moment of pause, a breath, and he's in.

* * *

The two men sit in Iroh's tent for a long time after they are reunited, talking through the lives they lived whilst they were apart.

At one point, without any pause in the conversation, Zuko quietly puts together a pot of jasmine whilst his uncle pretends not to watch. After a long sip and a poignant silence, Iroh lays a hand on his nephew's shoulder, face open and glowing with emotion, and bestows upon him the finest compliment he has to give:

'I think that this may be the best cup of tea I have ever had.'

Both know that the brew is respectable at best. Both also know that that isn't what Iroh is talking about, and Zuko feels his eyes burn once more as he turns towards his uncle's praise as if it were the sun. The two of them sit wrapped in silence, substantial and warm, for a moment longer before Iroh speaks again.

'I understand that you are here with the Avatar and his companions – you have found friends in them. You trust them.'

'I do.'

'And in turn you have earned their trust.'

'I think so, uncle.'

'This makes me very happy to hear.' A dangerous twinkle suddenly comes into the old man's eyes. 'And the young lady, the waterbender – she speaks soundly, giving strength when it is needed. You listen to her.'

'I-... What?'

'I must confess, nephew, I was not as deep in sleep as I might have pretended to be when you came into my tent. These old ears do catch fragments of conversation from the outside, particularly when those conversations occur right on my threshold.'

'But-...'

'Something I have learned during my years is that it is altogether too common that we find people who tell us what we want to hear. It is a much rarer thing to find those who tell us what we _need_ to hear. It seems you have found such a person.'

'Are you... Are you trying to give me relationship advice hours before we go to battle?'

Iroh smiles, his eyes bright.

'I am giving you advice about the people you are close to, Zuko. Whether or not it is 'relationship advice' is very much up to you.'

'Is now really the time?'

'It is when our future is most unclear that we must be most mindful of our present.'

Zuko wonders if there has ever been a time when his uncle hasn't made something extremely complicated sound extremely simple. Then he wonders if there's ever been a time when he hasn't turned out to be right.

'Katara and I... We're very different.'

At this, Iroh bows his head in acknowledgement, taking a sip of his tea before responding.

'Our differences are the things that keep our connections stable and unwavering. Much as there must be balance between the yin and yang of the world, so must our bonds with each other be balanced – by the ways in which we are distinct, not the same. So long as you are able to learn from each other, your differences make you strong.' He lets out a hearty chuckle. 'And the world would be extraordinarily boring if everybody were alike.'

Zuko is silent.

His uncle's words are swimming in his head, winding their way through memories that glow with moonlight and smell like rain and sound like the hissing of steam, and in this particular moment it all feels like too much to unravel.

So he finds his mind locking onto something different, something that sits clear of the confusing tangle that is everything else.

'You were pretending to be asleep?'

'Indeed.'

'Why?'

'I must apologise for my dishonesty, nephew, but in spite of your friend's words, I thought you might need just a little while longer to collect your thoughts before we spoke. I did notice that you did not make any attempt to wake me.'

Zuko smiles, almost self-consciously, and lifts a shoulder in a half-shrug.

'I thought that would be a pretty bad way to start an apology.'

Iroh smiles, more than almost proudly, and nods.

'You have grown patient, and learned to sit and wait until the moment is right instead of trying to turn the world to your wishes before it is ready. This is one of the great lessons in life, Zuko. And why your tea is much better now!'

'Thanks, Uncle. I learned from the best.'

* * *

The day dawns too quickly, bringing with it the moment when they must all go their separate ways. Hugs and bows and handshakes are passed around like sugar cookies, everyone painfully aware but refusing to acknowledge out loud that this may be the last time they are all in the same place again.

Katara moves through the members of the White Lotus, goodbyes coming in from all sides, and finds herself on the end of an unexpected bow from Iroh.

'_Master_ Katara, as I hear it.' He doesn't give her time to feel self-conscious being awarded such a show of respect from someone so esteemed. 'I believe my nephew is capable of looking after himself. This does not mean that I am not happy that he will have you with him today.'

'I-... Thank you, sir.'

He smiles kindly at her, eyes glittering in the morning light, and bows once more before moving away. Katara turns herself, looking towards the members of their group who are readying themselves to ride to meet the Fire Nation's fleet of airships.

Toph feels her approach, and seems to know what's coming – she sidesteps, giving Katara a hearty punch on the shoulder that the waterbender is quite sure is going to leave a mark.

'Nuh-uh, Sugar Queen. Don't think I'm gonna hug you now just because we're heading in different directions. I'll be seeing you in a couple of days – that's nowhere near hug-worthy.'

Katara feels her forehead crease in a frown.

'Toph...' she breathes, and the weight of everything she's not saying hangs heavy between them.

The bravado slips off the younger girl's face, her shoulders slumping, pale eyes suddenly glassy. She stands stock-still for a moment before lunging forwards and grabbing Katara in a hug that feels more like a chokehold, squeezing tight for all of a few seconds before pulling quickly away.

'See you later, Katara.'

Before Katara can respond, Toph is gone, turned away towards the eel hound that will carry them away from Ba Sing Se and across into Fire Nation territory.

Suki moves in to take her place, and Katara grips the other girl hard, feeling her eyes start to sting with the burden of all the goodbyes.

'Don't let him do anything stupid.'

Suki lets out a tense laugh into Katara's shoulder.

'Half your brother's brilliance comes from the stupid things he does.'

'True.'

Sokka's voice sounds from behind her, indignant to the hilt, as the two girls pull apart.

'Hey! Who are you calling stupid?'

Suki's laugh is looser this time, more genuine, and she pecks him quickly on the cheek before walking away, calling over her shoulder as she goes.

'I called you brilliant, too.'

'Well, that's accurate.'

The two siblings are left standing in front of each other, and Katara finds herself thinking that this is the moment where she quits, this is the line that she draws, this is the thing – after _everything_ – that's too hard.

But instead, she winds her arms around her brother and holds him long and tight. Dipping her head beneath his chin, she presses her ear against his chest and listens to the beat of his heart, strong and steady, memorising its rhythm so that she can hold it in her mind and will it to continue through the chaos of the day.

When they finally pull apart, his hands come up to cup around the back of her neck, and his smile is not quite as sure as it usually is.

'Stay safe, sis.'

'You too.' She has no words, so she says the only thing she _can_ say: 'Love you.'

'Love you. And hey...' The swagger comes back into his stance as he backs away from her, eyes brightening for a moment. 'Water Tribe. We got this.'

Despite everything, Katara finds herself smiling back at him.

''Course we do.'

Then, before she knows it, she's sitting in Appa's saddle, Zuko at the reigns, and everyone is poised and ready to leave.

The feeling of something much bigger than herself, bigger than all of them, swells painfully in her chest as she casts a final, lasting look around the camp and the people before her.

She sends up a silent prayer to anyone, anyone at all, that Aang is safe and well and getting whatever guidance he needs to help him fulfil his long-awaited destiny.

Then the moment for prayers is over.

The comet is set on its path, and Aang is still missing, and in a moment all of them will be going their separate ways. By tomorrow's dawn, they will have reached the culmination of a journey that started a year ago, with two Water Tribe teenagers and a boy in an iceberg – a journey that, at times, seemed as though it would never end, and at others felt as though it might end all too hastily.

But now it is time.

Today they are fighting.

Today they are not alone.

'Today, destiny is our friend. I know it.'

Iroh speaks with such conviction that, for a moment at least, she believes him.

**A/N: You might have noticed that this is starting to place a bit more focus on some things other than our fave pairing. Basically, this started as a totally self-indulgent Zutara fic and now I've accidentally created a monster which is running away with me and taking me to a bunch of other places. Plus Zutara. Don't worry, that's not going anywhere. **

**I'm kind of wishing I could change the title to be a bit more fitting, but I can't do that so oh whelp.  
**

**Iroh is actually so much fun. I really enjoyed putting myself into the headspace of that tanked out old sage, he's got so much wisdom to give. And despite finding it tough to write, I love the relationship between Zuko and Sokka as well - I just don't know how to write bromances without them sounding awkward or out-of-character, so you'll have to forgive that!**

**Review review review!**


	7. Important note

**Important A/N:**

**Hey guys, to those of you who have been following this story, first off let me say thank you! It's lovely to have people enjoying what I'm putting together.**

**This was originally intended to be a few wee one-shots just to rid my mind of some Zutara plot bunnies, but it's spiralled a little and is starting to become much more than I had thought, so now the original premise just doesn't feel like it fits anymore.**

**To this end, I'm republishing the story and continuing it under the name Forged In Flames - if you're keen to keep following then head to my page and add yourself onto the new version!**

**Hope to see you all there. :)**


End file.
